So you wonder and think Or relax back and rely on instinct? Is the magical far away land an Impulse a pulse of creative editing towards perfection The long dreamed creatures I imagined in reflection Dark desires and dreams power the child life of strings attached to plastic I wrapped it around my sandwich and about my self Cast a molded figuring and unfolded the seams Replaced the arms with machine guns To blow up bad guys but I know I can never make a home a life in a figurine Not supposed to think yet through me he I do does My life might be built around fantasy of revenge and desires Too high for my hands to reach But at least I have machine gun hands Bitch